


Safe

by wastelandbaby



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Boys Being Boys, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-04 20:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastelandbaby/pseuds/wastelandbaby
Summary: You know what they say: write the only-one-bed trauma exploration au you want to see in the world.





	1. Through Alleys and Henchmen

**Author's Note:**

> i really needed to get this off my chest

Wet pavement scraped the underside of Eiji’s tennis shoes, small rocks strewn behind his sweeping strides, the smacking of swollen raindrops and the clicking of each pebble reconnecting with the ground sent shockwaves down his spine. Each _tap tap _of stone on concrete sounding off in his pounding eardrums, adrenaline pumping as he ignored what felt like gunshots at his feet.__

____

____

Ash was ahead of him, checking over his shoulder every few steps, briskly navigating the winding back alleys of a dark and dirty New York City. Eventually, he grew too tired of the constant worrying over whether or not Eiji was still behind him. Someone could snatch him swiftly without Ash ever noticing, had it not been for the growing knot in his neck. He stopped for a beat, Eiji strolling up beside him. He pinched the fabric of Eiji’s slippery windbreaker sleeve, continuing on with their pursuit.

Around each corner, past each doorway, window, and dumpster, Ash held his breath. Both in order to better hear what might be in front of him, and to steady the hand not dragging Eiji, instead gripping his revolver. Heavy, scuffed, reliable. He clutched the scarred wooden handle, remembering how he had allowed Eiji to hold it in his own soft hands. Eiji would never hold another gun if Ash could help it. 

What sounded like two or three sets of hurried footsteps scuffed somewhere ahead of the two, Ash pulling the gangly boy behind him with the hand clipping his sleeve, his gun crossing over Eiji’s chest with his other arm stuck out towards the next corner. He stood still, barring Eiji from moving another hairsbreadth closer to the noise. 

A few of Golzine’s pets emerged from the opening, catching sight of Ash only long enough to consider aiming before the men dropped like flies to the filthy street. Ash blasted holes through the center of each of their heads, yanking Eiji back into a half-jog. Crimson dots flashed across Ash’s cheek only long enough to catch the raindrops kissing his face, the blood and water welling together to slip down his face. Eiji stared at a grim Ash appearing to cry red. The vibrations from the gunshots reverberated through Eiji’s chest, rattling his bones and tightening his already strained muscles. 

Eiji reeled for control over his limbs, willing his legs to stop running. _No running _, Ash had hissed at him before they took off from the subway, where Golzine’s men had caught them. Something about running being too suspicious, even in silent alleyways. He felt if he went any slower, his adrenaline would drain and his legs would shake and he would crumble. The only thing that kept him from progressing his welling tears into full-on hysteria was the sharp winds whipping away the droplets. Strong gusts stealing them before they could fall to mingle with the rain and city sludge between the cracks in the pavement.__

____

____

Before he could catch his breath long enough in order to tell Ash that he was about to collapse, Eiji felt his hand leave the jacket sleeve, instead strong fingers splayed across his chest, pushing him under a balcony. No, not a balcony, there was no view in the alleyway to constitute a balcony. Eiji looked up, the rain starting to fall in sheets, but not on him. Rusted metal with chipped spray paint stared back at him, water running off the edges. Eiji slumped against the browned brick, panting while Ash looked over each of his shoulders, rolled his neck, and then jumped. His milky skin scraping against the metal, deep red rust rubbing itself into his palms as his weight sprung free the ladder. A fire escape.

Ash grabbed Eiji again, this time wrapping his fingers around a trembling hand, damp from both storm and sweat. Eiji didn’t have time to dwell on the contact before Ash placed his hand on the rung in front of him. Ash placed a hand on Eiji’s lower back, applying pressure as Eiji got the message, stepping up onto the creaking structure. He felt the ladder shift under both of their weight as Ash presumably followed close behind.

The pressure returned at each twist of the fire escape, Eiji only knowing they were on the fifth floor because he was counting how many times he felt Ash guide him up the slippery steps. He was waiting to feel it again, when instead an arm wrapped around his shoulder, physically turning his whole body. Eiji nearly crashed into the brick wall before Ash steadied him with a hand against his chest.

Eiji didn’t have time to question the situation, Ash digging his rust-covered fingers into the soft, wet wood of a window. The pane scraped against the old track, scratching and cracking with each pull. Eiji just caught sight of the red flakes left behind on his shirt material when his wrist was enveloped by Ash’s strong grip. He pushed down between Eiji’s shoulders, Eiji folding his body in response. He climbed in through the open window, his soaked shoes squelching against the dingy carpet like stepping on a wet sponge. 

His body jolted with an involuntary flinch when Ash slammed the window shut, pulling down the crusty blinds. Stale warmth filled Eiji’s nostrils, his clothing already starting to stiffen in the stuffy heat. Eiji hadn’t noticed how worked up Ash must have been, only then taking in the deep breaths he was trying to conceal. Ash’s fingers trembled ever so slightly, the only part of him giving away his nerves.

Ash’s hair was plastered to his forehead, tendrils curling around his ears and clinging to his neck. He turned to Eiji, an exhale shuddering out of his nose as he tried to govern his erratic breathing. Ash pointed, “Shower’s in there,” Eiji turned towards the open bathroom door, taking a shaky step. Ash sounded further away, “I’ll get you some clean clothes.”


	2. Sweatpants and Soup

Warm spurts of water ran down Eiji’s tense backside, the water pressure in this place was exceptionally bad. There was no soap, so he settled for massaging his shaking muscles under the heat. He turned, allowing the stream to wash over his face, to take the tears threatening to fall. He watched as little red flakes fell out of his hair, swirling around the drain. He closed his eyes, remembering the way rain mixed with blood on the pavement just around the corner. If he pulled the lever too hard turning off the faucet, no one was there to call him out on it.

No rug laid at the foot of the shower, Eiji’s soles connecting with cold tile. A neatly folded pile of clothes sat on the sink countertop. He hadn’t even heard Ash enter the room. He pulled on well-worn sweatpants that were too long for his legs, despite his height. Eiji rolled up each pant leg with trembling fingers, wishing he would just calm down already. The top presented its own problem, Eiji’s long torso refusing to be covered by the short material of the baseball tee. It was large, hanging off of his collarbone, but not reaching all the way down, his stomach peeked out. 

Eiji was too tired to care about his clothing. He ran a towel through his hair, not bothering to situate the dark strands in the dusty mirror. He tossed the towel over the bar fixed to the wall, making his way out to allow Ash his own shower. 

When Eiji found Ash, he was on the couch and had already changed his clothes. A large, black hooded sweatshirt hung around his slim shoulders, thin basketball shorts reaching just past his knees. He was barefoot, like Eiji, folding his knees to his chest with the sleeves of his sweatshirt crossed over his feet. 

“You don’t want to shower?” Eiji wondered, sitting next to Ash, who was staring at nothing. He shook his head in response, tightening his arms around his folded body. He was shivering, whether from nerves or from the cold rain, Eiji couldn’t tell. 

He stood, wandering in circles, opening doors and closets. He found mostly nothing. He entered the single bedroom, catching sight of the full sized bed. He didn’t linger, yanking the duvet from the mattress, and quickly returned to the living room. Eiji gently lowered the blanket onto Ash’s slightly shaking shoulders, wrapping the material around his scrunched up limbs. 

Ash looked up at him, confused, but said nothing. Eiji knew he didn’t enjoy taking lives, but that didn’t mean he had to bear it all alone. He laid a hand on his covered shoulder, rubbing a small circle into it. He patted him assuringly one, twice, then turned towards the open kitchen.

The refrigerator proved unhelpful, completely empty aside from a rotten takeout container Eiji was not about to touch. He opened each cabinet, sparsely filled with nonperishable junk foods and a few cans of soup. There was no oven range. Eiji searched for something to pour the soup into so he could use the microwave. 

After he thoroughly scrubbed two slightly bent spoons under the hot sink water, he brought steaming Tupperware containers over to where Ash still sat, looking at the wall blankly. He glanced at what Eiji tried to hand him, his brow furrowing. He looked somewhere between shocked and ravenously hungry. He slipped his hands out of his sleeves, taking his designated container from Eiji’s grip, his fingers brushing over Eiji’s when he wrapped the spoon into his own hand. 

Eiji blushed, but Ash wasn’t looking at him, thankfully. His cold fingers had touched Eiji’s hands, warmed from the shower and the soup. He lowered himself onto the lumpy couch next to Ash, but he gave him a bit of space. 

They ate in silence, aside from the occasional scrape of metal on plastic as each of them chased a vegetable or noodle. Eventually, Eiji couldn’t take it anymore, he was about to start crying again. He blurted, “What is this place?” If only to get out any of his thoughts. 

“It’s a safe house, kind of.” Ash didn’t look up from his soup, “We have deals with shitty hotels around the city, we block out a room in each of them so that if someone’s on the run, they can just slip away. Disappear until it’s okay to go outside again.”

“Oh,” It was the most Ash had said to him since before they had even left earlier that afternoon. 

Eiji tipped his container towards his mouth, drawing in the last of his soup. He waited until Ash did the same, then offered to take his empty dish. Ash obliged without resistance, looking thankful that he wouldn’t have to move from his spot.

At the sink, Eiji stole glances over his shoulder at Ash. He looked worn out well beyond his years, eyes trained on some unknown spot in the carpet. The duvet now covered his shoulders, but Eiji could tell he was still slightly trembling, the way the fabric shifted. 

He grabbed a bag of potato chips from one of the cabinets, heading back towards the couch. Eiji laid the open packet in front of Ash, then searched for a remote for the television only a few feet in front of them. He flipped off of the news channel, past the crime shows, finding some innocuous game show where contestants were slamming on a button. He muted the loud music, allowing the people to silently scramble around the screen.

Ash settled into the cushions, “Now it’s pointless,” He let out a faint laugh, “If you turn off the volume, you can’t hear the questions.”

Eiji clutched the remote tighter, “Oh,” He unmuted the television, but turned the volume low, so as to not alert any surrounding rooms of their presence in the building. Ash laughed again, some color returning to his cheeks. He pulled the blanket tighter around him, looking comfortable where he sat. 

They watched several rounds of the questionnaire game, Ash sometimes mumbling out answers before they appeared on the giant answer board. Eiji’s feet were cold, but there were no socks to be found aside from his wet, muddy ones. He slid his bare feet under the excess of Ash’s covers, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did.

“You cold?” Ash immediately took the blanket off of his own shoulders, preparing to wrap Eiji in the fabric. Eiji scrambled back, “Ah! No, no,” He pushed the blanket back into Ash’s arms, “My feet just got chilly, that’s all.”

Ash evaluated Eiji’s features, as if he would lie to make sure Ash kept the blanket. Eiji only shook his head, “You keep it, I’m not cold,” He shifted against the couch’s armrest, “Promise.”

That seemed to satisfy Ash, because he sat back down with the duvet covering his lap. It was comical, the large pool of fabric lying like a small mountain on Ash’s slender frame. It's periwinkle blue drawing out the softness in his skin. Eiji looked pointedly back towards the television screen at the sound of a buzzer. 

“Turn towards me,” Eiji startled when he heard it.

“What?”

“I said turn towards me.”

Confused, Eiji turned his body, his back leaning against the arm rest. Ash moved to mirror him. He tossed half of the blanket over Eiji’s outstretched legs, and though he could no longer see them, Eiji felt Ash’s own legs slide up beside his. They were warmer than the blanket.

Eiji didn’t know how he was supposed to sit like this, waiting however long it took to leave this place. Ash slid down, pulling the covers up to cover his nose. Eiji blushed when he looked him dead in the eye, catching him staring.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all got thoughts?


End file.
